


Paths

by nekosmuse_archive (nekosmuse)



Category: Third Watch
Genre: F/F, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:07:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23580589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekosmuse/pseuds/nekosmuse_archive
Summary: Written pre 2005. Posting for archival purposes.Faith lets Bosco know just how close her and Claire actually were.
Relationships: Faith/Other(s), Maurice Boscorelli/Faith Yokas





	Paths

Seeing Claire brought back so many memories for me. Some I didn’t want to remember, some I did. It’s funny, thinking back, seeing how much I’ve changed, how much I’m the same. I always chose the safe route. Secure job, secure husband, even a secure building. I guess I miss being reckless, following my heart, chasing my dreams. Claire always took the path less tread. Me, I stuck to the trail, knowing I was missing out, but needing the certainty of it.

Bosco.

He can be an uncertainty, but he’s also a constant. He’s really the only paradox in my life. Not because he does what is unexpected, but because I never know how I’ll respond to him. Take today. I wanted to answer his question. I wanted to tell him exactly who I was, who a part of me still is. I didn’t. Not because he wouldn’t understand, but because I’m afraid. Afraid of that part of me.

I wouldn’t call myself bi-sexual, in fact, under most circumstances, I have no interest in women. But Claire, with her, it didn’t matter that she was a woman. I was drawn to her spirit, her persona, her entire being. The same way I’m drawn to Bosco. Only difference is, I wasn’t yet married when I met her.

I wonder if it matters. Being married that is. I wonder if he’d turn me away, reject me out of principle. I don’t think so. There are some things I just know about Bosco. And maybe that’s why I’m here.

It only takes me 15 minutes to decide to knock. And it only takes moments before he answers. I’m both glad and disappointed. Part of me wanted to be given the opportunity to leave, another, wanted nothing more then to be invited in.

“Faith? You okay?”

“We were close. Very close.”

His eyebrow shifts, but beyond that he gives no outward appearance of understanding what I mean. Wordlessly, he moves aside, allowing me past. I try desperately to steady myself as I glide into his home.

“You want a drink or something?”

“Nah, I’m good,” I respond, moving to sit on the couch.

“So, um, close eh?”

He’s smirking now, that half smile he gets, usually before he does something to earn us a reprimand.

“Do you want to know?”

“Tell me.”

He moves to sit across from me. His eyes, never leaving my face, sparkle with an intensity that frightens me. I feel myself flush under that gaze, and I wonder what I’ve gotten myself into.

“I met Claire in college. She was… She radiated this energy, it was, intoxicating. I’d never met anyone like her before. I was instantly drawn to her,” I begin.

“Go on,” he tells me, his tone urgent, and slightly breathy.

My eyes seek out a spot on the wall. I don’t trust myself to look at Bosco. The memory alone is enough to send moisture rushing into my underwear.

“We’d gone to this party. It was pretty wild. I can’t even remember how much I drank.”

Fred was away that weekend, some family affair I can’t quite place anymore. I take a deep breath before continuing.

“We’d gone back to her residence, her roommate was out for the night. One thing lead to another, and….”

I’m not sure I can continue. I hazard a brief glance at Bosco. His eyes are wide, his pupils dilated. I’m instantly aware that he’s aroused. My own desire mounts. I maintain eye contact as I tell the rest of the story.

_October, 1987_

_“Shh, we’re going to wake your roommate up,” I whisper, trying to contain my laughter._

_“No, she’s not here, visiting her folks,” Claire answers, closing the door behind us._

_I’m drunk. I know I’m drunk, and I probably shouldn’t be here, but I can’t seem to force myself to leave._

_“We need music,” Claire tells me, moving over to flip on the radio._

I’m so caught up in the memory, I barely register Bosco moving to sit beside me. He doesn’t touch me, and even though my mind is screaming at me to touch him, I keep my hands in my lap.

_We’ve somehow found ourselves on the bed, not that there’s anywhere else to sit in the small cramped room. I’m acutely aware of her presence. I know she wants me. She’s just waiting for some sign that it’s okay. I make eye contact, hoping it’s enough, I’m too terrified to make the first move._

_She accepts this, and gently places her hand on my knee. I shiver, my skin breaking out in goosebumps at the sensation. Her hand inches it’s way up, pushing aside my skirt, caressing the soft expanse of skin between my thighs. I moan._

_I suddenly feel guilty for not participating and reach a tentative hand towards her. She giggles at my awkwardness, and uses her free hand to guide me to her breast. Touching another woman’s breast is nothing like touching your own. I’m surprised by their softness, their suppleness._

Beside me Bosco groans, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. I shift so that I’m turned in towards him, our knees touching. He remains silent, but his eyes beg me to continue.

_She moves her now free hand to my own breast and I nearly cry out at the sensation. Her touch is nothing like Fred’s. She’s gentle, teasing. It’s as though she’s known my body longer I have, can anticipate my every need._

_She leans forward, gazing into my eyes before leaning forward to capture my lips. I can’t get over the feel of her lips. They’re soft, and powerful, like steel and silk. Her tongue invades my mouth, dancing with my own. Her hand continues it’s way up by leg, reaching between, brushing against the soft cotton of my panties. She smiles into the kiss as she finds me wet._

My eyes open at the feel of Bosco’s hand on my knee. I don’t remember closing them. He’s staring at me, his expression pure lust. My nipples have become taunt peaks, pressing against the fabric of my shirt. Glancing down, I notice the fairly large tent in the front of Bosco’s sweat pants. I swallow, hard.

_Pulling away, she moves her hands to the buttons of her own blouse. Slowly, one at a time, she undoes them, revealing the soft milky white of her breasts. Blinking, I pull my own shirt over my head, tossing it casually onto the floor. She rises, her hands moving to her jeans. They land with a soft thud next to my shirt._

_She offers me her hand, pulling me to my feet. I move to remove my own skirt, but she pushes my hands aside, doing the task for me. She stares at me for a moment, her eyes racking across my body. I feel momentarily uncomfortable under her scrutiny. The feeling vanishes as she steps towards me, her hands trailing across my stomach._

_She pushes me back into the bed. I let her have control, let her lead. I’ve never done this before, and am still uncertain how to proceed. I’m hoping she’ll let me know. She removes her own bra and underwear before unhinging the front hook on mine. I lift slightly, allowing her to slide it out from under me. My underwear, she glides down my body, her fingers brushing against my outer thighs._

Bosco’s hand has inched further up my leg, until he’s almost touching me. My own hand has found it’s way to his chest, and I stroke him through his shirt. He shifts, pulling me half onto his lap. His free hand wraps around my waist steadying me there. I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my chest against his. He moans, the sound sending shivers down my spine.

“Bosco, I want you,” I tell him, my voice hoarse with need and want.

“Not yet, please, finish the story,” he replies, leaning forward to nuzzle my neck.

_She mimics her actions on the way up, her fingers tracing delicate patterns against my skin. Before I can comprehend what’s happening, she’s lying next to me, her tongue once again invading my mouth._

_My hands begin their own exploration. I cup her breast, lightly flicking her nipple. She rewards my efforts with a moan. I seek lower, brushing against her curls, pressing my finger into her heat. She’s wetter then I imagined any woman could be. I stroke her clit, tracing small circles with my thumb._

_Her own hand leaves my breast, echoing my movements. I buck up sharply at the feel of her hand. She positions a finger at my opening, slowing pressing into me. I cry out as she breaches me._

Bosco’s hand has found it’s way under my shirt, beneath my bra. He’s rough, so much like what I’ve come to expect from a man, but I don’t mind. He pinches my nipple, causing me to arch into him. My own hands struggle with his shirt, pulling it over his head. I help him remove my own, until we are finally skin to skin.

He has yet to kiss me. I want him to, and I’m pretty sure he wants to, but he doesn’t want me to stop talking, and I’m not sure I can. I break away long enough to stand, pulling off my jeans and panties in one motion. He rises beside me, shedding his own remain clothes.

He sinks back into the couch, pulling me on top of him, my legs straddled around his. His mouth seeks out my nipple, altering between licking, sucking and biting. I rub myself against his erection, wanting nothing more then to sink onto him, allow him to fill me to the depths of my soul.

“Faith, please….”

_My index finger seeks out her core, pressing into her. Her walls tremble beneath my touch. Our lips have never parted, but now I break away, desperate for air._

_“Please Faith….”_

_Her pace increases, until she is pounding into me, over and over again. I quicken my own to match hers. I’m right on the edge, it won’t take much more to send me over the edge._

Becoming frustrated, Bosco grabs my hips, lifting me to position himself at my opening. I’m vaguely aware that he’s now wearing a condom, and wonder when he thought to break one out. I’m too far gone to care by this point.

I cry out as he presses into me, my body arching back. His own head falls against the back of the couch, he mumbles my name. Slowly I begin to move, up, and down, relishing the feeling of him inside me. He arches forward and meets me stroke for stroke.

“Faith, the story,” he commands, his voice taunt with desire.

_A final flick against my clit and I’m crashing, splintering into a million pieces. I hear her own cries but they seem distant, unheard in the void. Only the throbbing of her walls tells me she’s cum. She continues her ministrations until I stop shuddering, my forehead coming to rest against her own. She kisses me then, a soft, sweet kiss that speaks of gratitude, love and understanding._

With a grunt more animal then human, Bosco cums. The sight alone is enough to send me over the edge. I fall into him, stars dancing beneath my eyelids. Only then does he kiss me. A kiss that speaks of trust, respect and love.


End file.
